Train tracks were cool.

The thing about trains, and train tracks in general, is that they are pretty much the embodiment of destiny. They go exactly where they're told to go, they don't deviate from their route in any way, shape or form, they get to where they're going (mostly) and they don't argue, get lost, get distracted or generally do anything other than get from A to B on the predesignated tracks.

A truck driver, or a driver in general gets to make choices when they're out and about. Do I go this way? Do I go that way? Should I turn right here? Should I turn around and take the junction I missed back there? A train driver has none of those concerns. The train just follows the track. At a junction, it goes where it's pre-destined to go, and nothing more. It slows down, it speeds up. The only real choice that the driver makes is how fast the train goes, and when to blow the horn.

Train tracks were beautiful.

They could be almost hypnotic in nature. Two parallel steel lines, never meeting, never parting, simply being. Inexorably joined together as they wind through the countryside and cities, two companions journeying together throughout their history. These lines would stretch out for miles, sometimes without curving at all. Simple, straightforward and yet strangely friendly.

Train tracks were useful.

If you come across train tracks, you had two choices. Follow them to the left, or follow them to the right? You could not follow them, I suppose, but why would you want to do that? Just follow them. They'll usually lead you to wherever you want to go. Train tracks are good like that.

Train tracks were interesting.

A kind of a symbiotic relationship, tracks and sleepers, neither able to exist without the other. One on top, in charge, the other underneath, supporting, reliable, unmoving, mostly forgotten.

And so the girl stood on the tracks.

The forest around her was darkening, twilight quickly taking its daily hold upon the diminishing light. The wind was blowing softly through the trees, making that comforting whooshing noise. The trees themselves, growing shadows, waved slowly in the breeze from side to side, enveloping the girl all around. The forest was there, it was with her, it was calling her.

Well, the crickets were calling, and boy, were they making themselves known tonight. It was like a cacophony of crickets.

Even though the sound of the forest was captivating and beautiful, there were times, just like this, when she wished she could just turn the volume down to one. Her headphones helped a little, but not as much as she'd like.

So she stood on the tracks. As far away from the trees as possible; here the noise was just about bearable. She flicked her lighter, managing to activate it on her third attempt. She brought it to the cigarette clamped between her lips, sucking in gratefully as the tobacco lit and stood, motionless on the train tracks, gazing ahead as she slowly exhaled, giving life to a cloud of smoke in front of her.

A distant horn pierced the fast-approaching night.

The girl looked up, subconsciously rolling the cigarette between her thumb and index finger, to see the lights of an approaching train.

The horn sounded again, nearer this time, but the girl didn't move. Again she brought the cigarette to her lips, sucking the smoke gratefully into her lungs, and exhaling the cloud with a relieved sigh. Her figure was now bathed in the lights of the approaching train. She wore a dark hoodie, hood right up obscuring her face, and dark blue jeans, patched on one side.

The train sounded once again, but again she ignored it, taking another drag from her cigarette. She smiled, as if playing a solo game of chicken against an oncoming freight train.

The horn blew once more, more urgently this time, but still the girl didn't budge. Sparks flew from the wheels as the train driver slammed on his brakes, praying fervently for some twist of fate as he knew there was no chance of the train actually stopping before it hit the girl. Maybe she wanted to be there, maybe tonight was her turn, her choice to leave this world for the next, and the train driver was simply a pawn in this game. Or maybe she was just being a jerk, playing a game of chicken, not realising just how much danger she was putting herself in. What if she tripped? What if her foot was caught in the rails? What if she couldn't actually get out of the way? What if…

The girl moved. She carelessly discarded her cigarette onto the rails, took two steps to her right and hopped out of the way of the train, bouncing off the rails just as the train passed by. She grinned as the voice of the train driver, swearing and cursing at her, more in fear and relief than actual anger, passed into the distance as the train stopped sparking and braking and began to slowly speed up once more. She was sure she saw a dark figure leaping nimbly from the train, a little further down the tracks, and scramble up the path to the old mill, but the figure was too quick for her to follow. However, it did show her the way up to the old mill.

Pausing briefly, the girl turned her back on the passing wagons. She looked up and lifted her hoodie off her head, revealing her face to the night for the first time. She was an attractive girl, but one whose face was hinted at a hidden pain. She looked ahead and up to her right at the lights hidden behind the trees and smirked. Her mousy-brown hair swirled in the light wind as she began walking towards the lights, her smirk morphing into a full smile.

I can't believe Firewalk is playing a show at the old mill. Fuck! Yes!

Her stride turned into a swagger as she approached, but then stopped suddenly, scratching her head.

Mom would kill me if she knew I was out here.

She shook her head, smiling again as she remembered why she was there.

Firewalk!

She swaggered along the forest path for a few minutes, completely ignoring the sounds of the night, the trees swaying contentedly in the breeze. The path was pretty good, all told. It could be a complete nightmare after the rain, but it was pretty dry today and had been for a couple of days, so the path was walkable. She soon came upon a fence blocking her path, with a large red sign adorning the barbed wire along the top.

WARNING!

Do Not Enter.

Hazardous conditions exist.

No Trespassing.

Private Property.

Eyebrows raised, she scoffed.

"No trespassing?" she whispered to herself. "Yeah, right. Fuck that."

It was ironic that it was the warning sign itself that helped her over. She backed up a couple of paces and, using the sign as protection against the barbed wire, she easily vaulted over the fence, landing neatly on the other side.

"Nailed the landing!" she gloated, quietly to herself. "At least a four point oh." She shivered quickly as a gust of wind brought the cold air through her clothes, but just as quickly shook it off as she thought about what lay ahead.

Firewalk!

She continued up the dirt path, a low flickering light guiding her to her destination. Grinning to herself, she picked up the pace, eventually breaching the forest as the trees parted to reveal her goal.

The old mill.

"Holy shit!" she muttered to herself, involuntarily stopping to take in the view.

The old mill, was, as its name suggested, an old mill. Nobody could quite remember exactly when it had been built, or exactly when the final timbers had been processed, but everyone knew of it's existence. It was a place to hang out, meet people, host parties or concerts, and purchase certain… supplies that weren't necessarily readily available. Or legal.

"This place is awesome." The words left Chloe's lips before she realised what she was saying.

It loomed high above Chloe as she looked at it. From within, she could hear muffled strains of the band she hiked an hour to listen to, causing her heart rate to thump in time with the music, together with flashing lights. Outside, a fire pit lit up the night, the flames dancing and flickering, as if to the thumping music from inside. An RV was parked, together with a few bikes around the clearing. The only other light was over the entrance door, lighting up…

A bouncer. Shit. I hadn't counted on that.

She took several steps forward, allowing the light from the fire to play on her face. It entranced her, and she nearly tripped over a large object lying on the ground. It was an old, rusty saw, and it looked mean.

Shit, I wonder how long that's been there. I mean, I wonder how long ago the mill actually closed?

Chloe stepped around the ancient saw and approached the entrance. The bouncer, a heavyset man with what looked like cultural tattoos on his right arm, neck and right side of his face and huge ear-stretchers, saw her and raised his eyebrows. She swaggered up to him with as much nonchalance as she could muster, and he smiled as she approached.

"You again?" His voice was deep, matching his stature. It was polite and friendly, but at the same had a slight edge to it.

"What?" asked Chloe, confused.

"Sorry," said the guy. "Thought you were someone else. Can I help you?"

She grinned suddenly, nodding past him at the door. "I want in," she said, producing her fake ID with a flourish. She waved it in front of his face and he looked at her with eyebrows raised. She got the message and handed it over; he scrutinised it for a moment, nodding appreciatively. Then he held it up to the light.

"Not a bad fake," he said. "Not bad at all, actually. Nearly had me." He threw it back at her; she tried to catch it deftly, but it slipped out of her hands and she sighed and picked it up off the floor. "But not good enough, I'm afraid. You're in over your head." He nodded behind her. "Do yourself a favour and scram. This isn't somewhere you want to be."

"Aw c'mon, man," she wheedled. "I've hiked an hour to see them."

"See who?" he smiled. "Nothing going on here tonight." Just as he said that, there was a massive whang of a guitar chord, crashing cymbals and a huge roar from the revellers inside. He cocked his head and smiled. "Nope," he said. "Nothing to see here."

Chloe glared at him and stalked off.

"Shit," she muttered. "Foiled at the last."

There's gotta be a way in. Fuck, I've come too far to be stuffed at the final hurdle. Mom would totally flip if she found out I was here, let alone hiked an hour to get here!

She grinned.

Totally worth it.

She had a quick look around the clearing. There were a couple of guys arguing near the RV; she couldn't quite hear what they were arguing about, but they'd began pushing each other around, so she gave them a wide berth. She hooted as she saw a second door to the side and ran over, but her grin disappeared as she pulled at it, but couldn't get it open.

So close…

She put her ear to the door and listened to the band for a few minutes, smiling to herself. Finally, she forced herself to draw away.

C'mon Chloe. Listening at the door, that's not you. Inside, that's the place to be. But how to get past ol' Thunderfoot here.

She looked again at the bikes, parked in a row by the wall. There was one, parked slightly away from the others, and the bouncer was eyeing it up, every now and again, as if he was checking on it from time to time. Chloe nodded in realisation and a small smile played on her lips.

Nothing says badass like a nice floral print. Maybe I could use that against him.

She gripped the handlebars and raised a leg, as if she was going to climb on. As she did, she heard a shout behind her.

"I asked you to leave, kid," said the bouncer, stepping over to her. She put her leg down, glanced at him and then back at the bike.

"This yours?"

"Yup," said the bouncer. "What of it?"

"It's… pretty cool." Lame, Chloe, totally lame. She mentally kicked herself.

"Well, gee, thanks," said the bouncer, unimpressed. He leant into her. "You should probably just go," he said, pointing behind her, but Chloe shook her head.

"I don't think so," she said, trying to sound authoritative. It didn't work.

"Go on," he said. "Go back to your mommy."

"Aw come on, dude," said Chloe. "Don't you remember what it's like to be a teenager? I just want to see the band, man!"

"We went over this once, kid," said the bouncer. He was still talking kindly, but the edge to his voice was still there. "It's past your bedtime."

"Yeah, it is," said Chloe, "but my mommy isn't here to tuck me in." She looked at her watch. "Thing is, it's past yours too. Would you tuck me in?"

"Tempting," said the bouncer, grinning in spite of himself. "But I still don't know you, so don't get cute with me."

Chloe raised her eyebrows. "Cute?" she said, raising her voice. "Do I look like I do 'cute'?" she said. "Or do I look like I'm going to kick your ass?" That remark actually brought a guffaw from the bouncer, who looked at her with new interest.

"Okay, I get it, kid. So you think you're tough," he said. "But you wouldn't take me."

"Ok, so I am a kid," she confessed. "With a damn good fake ID. Then again, this place looks like a damn good playground, so I reckon I belong right here. Right now."

The bouncer's face softened. "It's… look, kid, it's no playground in there. A girl like you… I won't be able to protect you, you understand?"

"A girl like me?" said Chloe, grinning. She nodded at the bike. "A girl like you with pretty, pretty flowers on her bicycle shouldn't lecture me on what I can and can't do. I don't even allow my mommy to do that! C'mon, man, I can take care of myself. Or are you a crusher of little girls' dreams?"

"Pretty flowers?" he said, taking a step forward, "that's a traditional Samoan…" He caught himself, laughing. "Oh, you're good," he said. "I like your spunk." He looked around. "Look, kid, if it were up to me, I'd let you in, but my boss is the one who decides who gets in."

"Is your boss your mom?" said Chloe, on a roll. She giggled. "Does your boss tuck you in at night? Do you live in your boss's basement?"

The bouncer laughed, long and hard. "You're not accepting no for an answer, are you, kid?"

Chloe grinned. "Nope," she said. "Don't see your boss here, do you?"

The bouncer looked at her, then looked around. "Okay," he said, finally. "You really think you could take me?"

Chloe nodded. "I could take you blindfolded," she said, taking a step forward.

The bouncer looked at her, then grinned. "What if I weren't blindfolded?" he said, and Chloe giggled, in spite of her trying to look badass.

"I could still take you," she said, trying not to laugh.

"What if I had a knife?" he said.

"No problem," said Chloe.

"A gun?"

"Don't care."

"What if I had…"

"I don't care if you had a flamethrower, an army of robot ninja-wolves, a motherfucking dragon on a leash, or even a doppleganger of my mom in there, it wouldn't make an ounce of difference," she said. "I would still kick your ass."

"Okay, okay," said the bouncer, laughing and throwing up his hands. "I give up! Go on in." He stood by and let Chloe past. Trying not to grin too much, she sauntered past him, but stopped at the door.

"Could you possibly open the door for lil' ol' me?" she asked, sweetly, eliciting another loud guffaw from the bouncer.

"Don't push it, kid," he said, grinning, and she opened the door and went in.